You don't have to be alone
by ourelusivesouls
Summary: I'm nothing on my own, and I love you, please come home.  Post-Glee HeYa/Brittana AU/Brittana Future-fic


She walked down the pavement; her hands in the pockets of her double-breasted peacoat, her head slightly bowed in reaction to the cool winds of the evening. The people that moved around her did so at different paces, though she hardly paid them any attention. There was an overwhelming sense of clarity in her mind, having spent the entire day debating and finally deciding on her decision. The occasional bouts of nerves that jangled through her were pushed away by forced concentration on ensuring that she was heading in the right direction. While she had walked this route two nights in row, she was still no more than a tourist in this town, and tonight was definitely not a night she could risk getting lost. If all went well this night, she would find and retrieve what she had lost a year ago.

_She hesitated by the doorway; watching a slender figure move about the room, gathering pieces of clothing into a pile by a brown suitcase. _

"_So it's true then? You are moving away?" _

_The voice disturbed the silence of the room, startling the original occupant. Prior to the light nod she received in response, she thought she saw a flash of surprise pass through the soft, blue eyes she had come to know very well, but it was gone so quickly she could not be sure. What she was certain of, was that the owner of those eyes had stopped pottering around the room, and was instead standing stock-still, gazing at her. She swallowed thickly before meeting the gaze, offering herself up the only way she could at this point. _

"_I just need a break, maybe rediscover my love for dancing or do a little choreography. I've been talking to a few friends about starting a small dance school for underprivileged girls." _

_The answer jolts through her like cold steel as she realizes that the blonde had thought this through, that she had considered her options and was not doing this on a whim. _

_Bitter laughter rang through her head as she contemplated how long ago it was that she had already lost her. When was the turning point? Was it when she brought a 20-year old as a date to an event out of pressure from her management? Or maybe it was after that particularly emotional day at work, which ended with them cuddling in a compromising position while they fell asleep? The feelings that emerged from that situation had unnerved her, yet she was unwilling to disturb the peaceful sight that lay before her eyes. She had driven home in the wee hours of the morning, trying not to think about the guilt of leaving her companion to wake up very much alone. _

_Or it might have been the numerous other times she had turned the blonde down whenever she used that tone, the tone that hinted a desire to discuss what exactly was going on between them. _

_She had unknowingly gazed away from the dancer, her eyes flitting about the floor as she thought of an appropriate response. _

"_And you can't teach dance to underprivileged girls here?", she retorted. _

"_I think a clean start would make things easier. Besides, this isn't exactly the zip code where one would expect to find underprivileged girls." The grin that followed seemed starkly out of place within their minimal yet tense conversation, but she was grateful for it. Grateful enough it seemed, that she forgot to ask the blonde what she meant by a clean start making things easier. She should have, instead of choosing to respond with the line that she did._

"_When are you coming back?" _

_She felt her move closer and she instinctively lifted her eyes to meet the blue orbs. Like a lighthouse searching through the dark ocean, a glow seemed to pass from the cerulean pools through to her own eyes. It faded quickly though, as if it did not quite find what it was looking for. _

_A pale hand stretched out to her elbow, and she followed it with her gaze as it passed from the edge of her forearm, ending at her fingertips. She looked up and released a breath, before hearing the blonde's response._

"_When I have something worth coming back for."_

Stopping in front of her destination, she peered inwards through the glass windows. The receptionist was chatting animatedly with several middle-aged women, all of whom were mothers of children who attended dance classes at the school. The clock on the wall indicated that classes had ended for the night, and the stream of youngsters that came out of dance studio four confirmed that point. As the pairs of parent and child left the dance school, she could feel their curious gazes upon her. Perhaps they found her familiar, she was a recognized face after all, but she was glad to be in a city where she could stand on the roadside and not have a camera shoved in her mug.

When all the students had left, she decided she would enter the dance school and wait. Taking a seat in the lobby seemed less likely to draw attention compared to standing outside and looking in. Nodding to herself, she pushed the door open. A bell that had been attached to the door jingled along with the movement.

However, she did not quite make it to the lobby.

Standing before her in the hallway next to the door was the person she had come to see. She was certain she did not imagine the flash of surprise that passed through the familiar blue eyes this time. Striding forward, she stopped in front of the blonde and took her in, feeling her do the same.

"I think it's time for you to come back now." She cringed at the emotional tone of her voice.

She felt the woman's intense gaze move from her face down the frame of her body, before settling on her eyes. The lack of response was palpable, and she felt her throat go dry.

Wearing a small smile, the dancer laid the question before her, "What am I coming back for?"

Stepping closer, she placed her left hand on a pale elbow and wound her right arm around the blonde's waist. Looking into the eyes she had missed so severely, she whispered, "Come back for us."


End file.
